Golden Sunshine
by discordiaaa
Summary: She held onto hope that she would avoid the Hunger Games for her final year but luck wasn't on her side. Now she's torn between killing or being killed. What makes it worse? She's in love with another tribute. Thresh x OC. Rating may change.


**This is my first Hunger Games fic that isn't a SYOT lol. Since it's based in the 74th Hunger Games, a few things will be different and I hope that's okay with y'all.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of it's characters. I only own my OC.**

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Chapter 1: Reaping day

I couldn't sleep. I stared out of the small box window in my ugly bedroom. It was so worn down, it looked like it was about to collapse any second, the wallpaper was horrible with this vile indigo color and it was caked in dust and dirt from where it had been up for so many years. It didn't even have any carpet, just bare floorboards that have given me so many splinters in my feet over the years. I had a rickety old bed with a poor excuse of a mattress, pillows and blankets. My room didn't have much furniture, like every other child's bedroom in District 11, just a simple rocking chair in the corner and a half broken wardrobe too.

I focused on the morning sun that was slowly rising, the warm rays shining through the window and onto my face. I couldn't help but smile at the warmth, it always brought back tender memories of my childhood where my mother would hold me so close, I could still feel her rubbing her soft thumb over my cheek and feeling the warmth it gave. The sun was so comforting, like my mother looking down upon me and sharing that same warmth.

Today marked another year without my parents, and reaping day the Hunger Games. Twelve years ago, my parents were involved in a riot within the district, a little boy with severe mental health problems was reaped for the Arena which caused uproar. My parents defended the poor boy and were two of the many instigators of the riot. People destroyed the crops they had spent so long growing and fought against the Peacekeepers that tried to keep them in order. If it weren't for all the high tech weaponry and equipment they were given, our district probably would've managed to push against them and overrun. The Peacekeepers won though, like they always did, and the instigators were sought out and punished for their crimes.

It felt like it all happened yesterday, the keepers smashed through the door and dragged my mother and father out of the house. I screamed for them until my voice was gone, Grams and I were held back. They were dragged out to the square along with several other people, tied chained up and forced to the floor on their stomachs. Then everyone heard the gunshots. One by one, they were all executed in front of the district. Grams prevented me from seeing any of it, but hearing the last two gunshots destroyed me. I remember vomiting there and then and hearing the keepers shout at Grams about it.

For years after, I hardly ever spoke. It was a twisted experience but I somehow managed to pull through. Though I miss them so much everyday, I knew they weren't gone completely but I always yearned to just hug them one more time. Just to sit in my mother's arms again and play with her long, tightly coiled black hair and twist it around my fingers like I used to do. She had loving eyes, I inherited her amazing eyes which is where the golden flecks came from. She had such smooth skin too, we were all dark-skinned like mostly everyone in the district, but hers was amazing to touch. I always believed my Ma was such a beautiful woman and Pa would always agree too.

Pa was so much taller than Ma, but he always had that soft look about him. He had much darker brown eyes that were so mellow, he didn't have much hair though. He started balding when I was 5-years-old, but he was a dark brunette. From years of working in the district, he had a somewhat big build. Ma told me that he used to be so skinny and small when the first met. They were childhood sweethearts, they were happy and loved each other unconditionally.

But now they're gone, all I have is Grams. She's Ma's mom, she became so frail and distant since her daughter's death but she did her best to take care of me. Her wispy white hair was always cut so short so that she never had to deal with it anymore. She didn't have Ma's eyes though, hers were still hazel but a little darker.

Sometimes Grams told me my eyes reminded her of Ma's, and the golden sun. Ever since she told me, I always found myself watching the sun through squinted eyelids. It was the most comforting thing I had besides Grams and it always felt like Ma was right there.

My thoughts were pulled away instantly when I heard movement behind my bedroom. As I glanced at the door, I saw Grams entering to wake me up for the day. As much as I wanted to forget, today was another and my final reaping day. I was eighteen which meant my last year for my name to be put into that dreaded bowl during the "ceremony". I had more of a chance of being picked than children younger since my name is entered more.

We live in one of the poorest districts, a lot of families go with out food on a daily basis. You'd think that since our district produces crops, we would be well fed. That's not the case though, a large majority of the crops grown here are delivered to the Capitol. What we produce one of the most important things for the Capitol so even trying to eat the tiniest bit of crops would end up in punishment. Publicly whipped for trying to feed ourselves and keep us from dying from starvation.

One year we struggled for food, I applied for tesserae so that I could feed dear Grams. Knowing my name was entered into the bowl two times more than it already was petrified me and when it came to the reaping, I almost had an anxiety attack in fear of being put into the Games. But someone else was selected, someone from my class in school. We were only 15 at the time, I watched her stand up on the stand. All the color had left her face as she stared at the crowd, hoping that someone would raise their hand to save her. But no-one did. No-one would ever give up their lives when they had families to feed. I remembered watching her in the Arena, the 71st Hunger Games where Johanna Mason won. She was among the Bloodbath victims, stabbed in the throat by one of the Careers.

I didn't apply for tesserae again after that, Grams didn't know about it until I told her and she was pissed. I understood her anger and promised to never do it again. I watched her staring back at me in the doorway to my bedroom, she looked so skinny and worn down from years of working in the district.

"Maribel," I heard her say with her gentle voice, "I've made breakfast, you should get yourself ready."

I sat up in my bed and pulled the covers over my legs to protect them from the cold air. Grams was holding something, it was my reaping dress that she managed to keep clean and folded up neatly. She walked over to the rocking chair and placed it down on it carefully so she didn't crinkle it.

"Ah, Grams, I could've made breakfast you know." I said to her, I always made food so she didn't have to wear herself out doing it. It was odd that she was up earlier than me and making it herself.

"I like to do things sometimes, I'm not completely useless." She joked with a short laugh. I couldn't help but giggle, I was always barking at her to put her feet up and let me doing everything. It was only because I cared for her, I didn't want her to do anything that she couldn't handle. I appreciated the breakfast though.

"When you're ready, come down. I'll do your hair for you, Peaches."

Peaches was a nickname given to me by Grams. She always called me it because when I was a baby my cheeks were puffy like a peach. I used to always find it embarrassing when she'd call me it but now I didn't care. I cherished everything I shared with Grams, she was the only family I had left and to be honest, she wasn't getting any younger. I had to savour everything I did or talked about with her whether it was upsetting or happy. And I did.

I twisted my fingers into my black, curled locks and chuckled, "There isn't much hair to do, Grams."

My hair was always cut kind of short and it was always curly. It rested at my shoulders and sometimes I'd just pin it on top of my head for quickness and for working in the crop fields. I guess Grams wanted to do something nice with it for the reaping. Grams smiled softly at me before leaving my room, probably to go check on our breakfast. I flung the blanket from my legs and stood up from my bed, a shiver ran through my spine as my feet touched the cold floor. As I turned back to look through my window, the sun was now sitting proudly in the sky and consuming District 11 in it's delicate and brightness. I found myself smiling again.

Then I set off to the bathroom for a good scrub and get changed into my reaping dress. It was one of Grams' old dresses from her youth, it was a beautiful sun dress dyed two salmon gradient colors that seeped into one another perfectly. It didn't hug my frame but it was comfortable and still so pretty. I stared at myself in the cracked mirror of the wardrobe and I could see the resemblance in myself and my mother. I could potentially pass off as her twin or so Grams always told me. Satisfied, I slipped on my pair of black flat pumps and headed off for breakfast...

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Breakfast was short and sweet. Grams and I discussed about the Games this year and what unlucky soul would have to suffer a miserable death. She hated talking about the Games and avoided the subject every year until now, which was strange. We shared a loaf of bread that was shaped like a crescent moon and made from dark grain. We didn't bother toasting it, we just wanted and eat and prepare ourselves for the reaping. Grams messed around and tease with my hair until she figured out what to do.

She brushed through the curls as best as she could until she was able to pin it up in a small bun at the back of my head. A few strands fell loose around the sides of my face. She looked so delighted when she saw me and I couldn't help but giggle when a few tears rolled down her precious cheeks. I often felt bad about sharing similar looks to my mother since it always upset Grams but it also comforted her in a way too.

Time passed so quickly, as much as I didn't want it to. It was almost 2PM and Grams had gotten dressed herself for the reapings in a lovely dress that she would always cover up with a head scarf. I wished she didn't since the dress was so nice on her but I never pushed the matter. We headed out the house for the town square, I felt the same warmth from the sun that helped keep myself calm. I fiddled with the hem of my dress though, we saw other families heading out to the square too. So many of them just like us, barely able to dress themselves nicely and some even looking so underweight from being starved. Then I looked at the bigger families who have suffered so many losses. The bigger families had to make do with what they had, our district had lost so many people from starvation.

As we reached the square, we stared up at the stage leading to the town hall. A large screen was positioned behind our district's escort, Tatianna. She stood in a tight latex peach bright blue mini dress with thigh high silver studded boots that were loose around her thighs. She had smooth, naturally tanned skin, her eyes were plastered heavily in dark blue eyeshadow and black eyeliner with fake lashes. This year she didn't seem to go over the top, she had a simple nude color on her lips. Her hair was her most obvious feature, she was one of few escorts to not wear dramatic wigs, her own hair was dyed platinum blonde and curled elegantly at the ends. Tatianna was way too naturally pretty for all that makeup but she was from the Capitol so it's a trend there.

She waited upon the stage patiently, sat inbetween two Peacekeepers for security. Since we had riots in the district, she seemed to always feel uncomfortable here and I could tell she was terrified of most of the citizens here too. It was kind of funny actually. It just showed that the people in the Capitol were just a bunch of pansies really.

I see children and teenagers split off from their parents and lining up to have their blood taken. We have our fingers pricked so they could use this weird scanner to identify who we are and figure out how many times our names go into the bowl. Two lines were form: boys and girls. We approached the line, Grams planted a kiss on my forehead and gave me the best reassuring smile she could. She could tell I was anxious, I didn't want her to leave my side but we had no choice. She headed off to join the rest of the parents at the back of the grounds.

The line got shorter and shorter so quickly, I stepped forward. They roughly grabbed my hand and stuck the needle in so aggressively as always, I had to hold back from cursing at the woman. The scanner flashed and my name appeared: Garner, Maribel. I looked down at woman with slight disgust as she left my fingerprint in blood on her documents, then she pointed out my age group and I went to go stand with them.

After what felt like forever of everyone being tagged down for their potential death, they were all stood where they were meant to be. Tatianna rose to the microphone and her annoyingly high-pitched voice almost deafened me.

"Good afternoon, District 11 and welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games!" A wicked smile formed across her nude lips, "74 long years of the Hunger Games, how wonderful! And even more exciting now that there's a Quarter Quell right around the corner!"

Every 25 years there's a 'special' kind of Hunger Games where the rules are bent slightly. For the 50th, we had 42 tributes instead of just 24. I can't remember what happened in the 25th, Grams told me about it long ago. I saw an image flicker onto the screen, showing the Capitol symbol and the Panem anthem started to blare obnoxiously. Every year it was the same boring video of the history of the Hunger Games. How we committed treason, the tyrants at the Capitol wanted to punish us.. blah blah blah.. Grams and I always made fun of it when we were home, we dared make a mockery of it in public otherwise we'd get lashed. The Capitol and the Peacekeepers were very harsh on us most of the time. Even the smallest thing could end up getting a beating.

One year, one of the boys decided to make fun of Tatianna's fashion sense right in her face. He didn't think it wouldn't have any backlash since she was just a Capitol citizen but he was so wrong. Tatianna had a meltdown over it and the boy ended up being lashed twice the amount. He learned to keep his mouth shut after that.

I found it hard to watch the video so I just focused on one of the bowls filled with paper slips at the side until it was over. Once it was done, the screen was rolled up and taken away by the keepers. Tatianna approached the microphone again with that same smile, it was time to blindly pick who was to die this year, "Let's get to the tributes, yes?" She said as if she expected an answer.

Surprisingly, she went to the boys' bowl first. Her bare hand dove in quickly and rummaged through until she grabbed a slip from the pile. She removed her hand a bunch of paper slips were stuck to her golden bracelet, she tutted in annoyance and shook them off. I couldn't help but chuckl breathlessly. She pulled open the paper as she walked back to the microphone, probably to memorize the name, she cleared her throat and announced the poor boy's name.

"Thresh Calhoun!" The boys shifted awkwardly until a path was formed. A hulking boy with dark skin looked up at the stage, I remembered him. We used to sometimes share the same class in school, Thresh was always naturally bulky and working in the crop fields only added to that. I watched him stalk up onto the stage, his fists were closed tightly and he was stone faced, showing no emotion. As he stood at one side of Tatianna, she immediately looked intimidated of him as he towered over her. She cleared her throat nervously and walked over to the girls' bowl quickly to get away from the brute. No introduction.

My eyes were focused on Thresh's face, no expression, he seemed like he had just stared into the eyes of Medusa herself. I didn't notice Tatianna withdrawing a paper slip from the girls' bowl, she reached the microphone once again and undone the paper. Everything went deafeningly silent as she read out the name I've been dreading for the last 7 years of my life...

"Maribel Garner!"

And then my world begins to crash, I feel as though I'm about to have a breakdown as I hear my Grams sob for me in the background. That's all I could hear, every part of me went numb including my senses. All I heard was Grams crying for me at the back. The girls move and make a pathway to me, their sad faces looking upon me with pity. I realized my eyes were still on Thresh and now he's staring back at me.

He no longer held that empty expression. He looked at me coldly, angrily. And that's when I knew I was going to die...

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 **I'm still doing my SYOT, I still need people to send me tribute forms for it so I can make a start on it but I wanted to do a non-SYOT fic of the 74th Hunger Games + my OC too! I hope you all enjoy!**


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